Many men have loved her. I don't think she has ever cared for any one. The Mona Lisa smile comes over her lips when I question her about this one or that. "Tell me now," I said the other day, "did you never love any one?" "Yes, and I do now." "Excellent. At last we shall have confidences." "And you like confidences?" "I do--but no diversions--who is the youth?" "I did not say it was a youth." "Well, it is not a dotard, I trust; but who is the man?" "I did not say it was a man." "But you said--" "I said I loved somebody, and that somebody is you, dear Miss Standish. Indeed I do, and I am ready to fight a duel, if necessary, with Dr. Cricket to prove that my affection is deeper and loftier, and generally better worth having, than his." What can one do with a girl like that, who winds up with a little mocking laugh and goes off whistling? I wish she would not whistle. It is one of those mannish tricks of hers which give a wrong impression. Her father ought to stop it; but he is so fond of the girl, and thinks her so altogether perfect and beyond cavil, that he lets everything go. She needs to have some one stronger than herself come into her life. I wonder if he ever will. It took Jimmy Anstice a long while to find that cloak. When he returned with it, he was still sulky. "I don't see why I should have to go on Fred's errands, when she spoiled my fire-works." "Ah!" said Flint, "it was a pity about those fire-works. Suppose you bring them down to the inn to-morrow night, and we will set them off there." Jimmy brightened up; but his sister rather resented the suggestion. "You need not be afraid to do it here," she said; "I promise not to interfere again." Mr. Flint ought to have said something civil; but he only turned to Jimmy and proposed that they go out and gather up the rockets before the dampness spoiled the powder. "Here, are you going without the cloak after all?" "Oh, thank you!" answered Flint, with sufficient graciousness, as he took it from Professor Anstice's hand. To reach the door, he passed near Winifred's chair. As he did so he bent over and spoke to her. I could not hear what he said; but I saw an angry color come into her cheeks, and she answered:-- "Yes, as you say, we seem fated to bring each other ill luck. Let us hope we shall not meet often." I never heard Winifred make so rude a speech before. But, to my surprise, it seemed to develop an unsuspected amiability in Mr. Flint. "That might be the worst luck of all," he answered, still in that provoking half-tone of his, and, waiting no answer, he followed Jimmy out of doors. It seemed to me that Philip Brady would have liked to take advantage of the general stir to get in a word with Winifred; but I saw that the girl was really suffering with the burn on her arm, so I told him, without ceremony, that it was time he went home.